Naught But Imaginary
by OhMyMaple71
Summary: It's not unusual for children to make up friends to play with, and when Arthur Kirklands young son, Alfred, makes one up, he thinks it's a good thing. A coping mechanism, maybe, or just Alfred returning to being a kid. Either way, it's a good thing, and so is the new start they have: new house, new country, new jobs and schools. But it's history you have to look out for. Human AU.
1. In the Beginning

Naught But Imaginary

Summery: It's not unusual for a six year old to make an imaginary friend. In fact, most children make ones before then, and to Arthur Kirkland, it's a good thing his son's made one, what with his wife dying only a year or so before. It doesn't unnerve him at all, except for the fact that some things about the house seem to have moved around that he doesn't remember moving. But then again, it's possible it's just his imagination acting up again, right?

When 34 year old Arthur Kirkland and his 5 year old son Alfred moved into the two story, modern and semi-recently rebuilt Victorian style house on the hill in a small town in the sprawling landscape of British Columbia, it was for a new start. They both needed one, and when one of Arthur's old friends suggested Albertshire, BC to look into, he just about jumped at the chance.

Arthur himself was used to countryside such as this, but it was the view and the mountains constantly there that had taken his breath,so to speak. It had been the countryside of remote England that he'd grown up in, and London where he'd met his late wife Briar Antstonly, a welcoming and bubbly brunette from Seattle. They'd met over work, her being an interior decorator and him being an architect, and their respective companies had stuck them on a large team of people to design a part of a new suburb being put in.

Fast forward about three years, and the two of them are married and packing up to move to Minnesota, where Arthur can continue his work from home and Briar can set up her own small decor business. And that plan worked out for another few years, the second year of their life in the States bringing about news of Briars' pregnancy, and in July of the following year Alfred is born, with blonde hair like his fathers and the eyes and smile of his mother.

The three remained your picturesque family, with Alfred being four years old when they found out that they were going to have another child.

That dream that the three were oh so very excited about (especially Alfred, who ran about and claimed that he was going to be the best big brother in the history of ever, and protect his little sister or brother like a true hero), never quite came to be. It was a rainy October, with warning for slow driving and the like about due to slick roads that Briar found herself flipped and rolling into a ditch due to a collision with another driver (later found to be drunk) and having been on a back road was not found until the next morning, where she was pronounced to be dead on the scene. As if t weren't crushing enough to the two boys she had back home, it had been her last day of work before maternity leave, and they'd set up a little celebration of sorts in the kitchen.

The next half year of their life was spent trying to get everything back to normal, and to try and live through the grief. As much as Arthur wanted to just curl up under the covers of his bed and sob and sob until he simply couldn't anymore, there wasn't time for tears, and he still had to look after Alfred and make sure he was doing okay. Not to mention he had to somehow work his job in some way, which was quickly slipping through his fingers amid the torrent of other things.

In late June of the new year, Arthur decided he would listen to the advice of some of his concerned friends and look for somewhere else to live, to get out of the house the held far too many memories then he needed to think of. Quitting his quickly slipping job, the Englishman waited only for Alfred to have his last birthday party with some of his friends before taking him and moving them both up to British Columbia, a place he always admired. One Briar always had liked too, ow that he thought of it. There they moved into the fairly simple house, with plans to start anew. Arthur pursued his ages old interest in writing, and the few drafts he'd had from years ago seemed well liked by the publishers he sent them in to.

Alfred seemed to have settled in well to the changes, his smiling and constantly excited, energetic self returning full force after a small bout of jet-lag. They both made the changes work, and it seemed that all would be well for them.

Alfred met a few of the children in the nearby neighborhood, and often would play with them under Arthurs' watchful eye from the back window of their home. Alfred never made any close bonds with the majority of them, only two seeming to occupy his interest for a long period of time. Although many would find that strange for a child as energetic as Alfred was, Arthur didn't take much time to question the scenario. The boy had just lost both his mother and younger sibling barely a year before, and the two boys, (Kiwi and Toronto, was it?) were nice enough, their parents good company. It wasn't until a few months later that Arthur began to question things around the house, what with their seemingly strange movements.


	2. Mattie

It started on a day that really was just as much like any other day, Arthur waking up with the sun as he usually did, and Alfred sleeping in until nearly 8:30 before he was up. Arthur was already at the table, dressed and ready although he had nowhere to go that day, what with not having an out of home occupation and it still being summer vacation for Alfred in Kindergarten. Having been alternating between skimming the pages of the local newspaper and sipping his tea, the Brit heard something slightly odd from upstairs, where his son was drowsy from waking up a few minutes prior and from the sounds of it brushing his teeth. Although it wasn't odd for Alfred to make random sounds to amuse himself when his father wasn't in the room, it sounded like the lad was carrying on a conversation with someone, even though Arthur knew for a fact that there was no one else in the house but himself and his six year old son.

It worried him all the same though, so after listening for only a minute or so more, he set his cup of tea down and started towards the stairs. Heading up them he took a right and went down the hallway there until he reached the upstairs bathroom that the gurgled voice of Alfred's was coming from. Giving a slight knock on the door before pushing it open, the blonde granted a small smile of amusement to show at the sight. Standing on a stool so he could reach the sink was Alfred, who although having a mouth full of toothpaste and a toothbrush in one side of his mouth, was somehow able to garble some words out, glancing every so often over to his left side as if he were talking to someone. He didn't seem to notice his father standing there, and Arthur was content to watch on in an amused silence, original intentions for leaving his tea forgotten.

Leaning forwards to spit out the toothpaste foam, and to take a moment to rinse his toothbrush out, the little blonde continued on his conversation. "And Ivan—I told you about him, right Mattie? The creepy tall kid with the weird talking."

"Yeah, I knew I told you about him! But anyway, he can throw the ball really high, and I mean really high! It was a good thing though that I was on his team, because no one else can throw as high as he can. I mean, I could if I wanted but-"

Here his words become garbled again by the toothbrush, and it also seemed that after he took it out of his mouth and put it back into the cup he stored it in, he still hadn't noticed his father watching, amused at his sons' behavior.

It was when Alfred was pushing his small stool back against the far wall again that he stopped his conversation, head tilting as he looked to his right now. "Huh? Mattie, did you just say that someone was watching me?" Arthur took this as his cue to straighten up from his leaning position on the doorframe, smiling still as the younger blonde turned and gave a sharp giggle of laughter.

"Daddy!"

Turning his head once again, Alfred sent a questioning look to the air to his right.

"Why didn't you tell me it was Daddy, Mattie? You scared me!"

And with that, the little one sped over to his father enveloping his legs into a hug as Arthur bent down to scoop him up into a large spinning hug, propping him at his hip for a moment, before setting him down again. That was an old habit, one he hadn't quite gotten out of when he hugged his son like that.

Alfred didn't seem to have minded, though, and simply giggle again, hugging his legs once more when he was set down before sending a grin up to him.

"Daddy, what are we having for breakfast?"

At this, the Brit laughed lightly, giving a light shrug at his son. Despite what some would say, he could actually cook fairly well. Just not large meals. Or really anything beyond basic meals. But he _could_ cook.

"Well, what do you want to eat?"

At the return question, the little boy paused, holding a hand up to his father, as if to tell him to wait a moment, and turned to his left, conferring in a whispered voice as if somebody was there.

Arthur, finding this rather curious, was about to interrupt the young blonde to question it, before stopping as his son turned back to him, large grin on his face.

"Eggs, please!"

"Alright then, eggs it is!"

Alfred, always the energetic little boy, took off running right away, racing to get down the stairs and to the table so he could have breakfast. Arthur, on the other hand, simply walked briskly, used to it.

Just as Alfred was probably used to being told not to run on the stairs, although he rarely had time to _not_ run when he was going that fast.

It was when Arthur was beginning to clear up the dishes, a half hour or so later that he remembered what he had been wanting to ask Alfred in the bathroom. Filling the sink up with water, Alfred pulling a chair over to 'help' (read splash some water about, and keep talking with his dad) had been watching, though he was quiet through the water filling, as was usual.

"Alfred," Glancing over to his son, to make sure he had his attention, Arthur continued.

"Who were you talking to in the bathroom this morning?"

At this, Alfred brightened more, and pointed back to the table, directly at one of the chairs not usually used.

"Mattie. I was talkin' to Mattie."

Raising a (rather bushy) blonde eyebrow to this, the Brit decided to question the four year old more, curious about this 'Mattie' his son had come up with.

"Mattie? Is he one of your friends?"

Alfred nodded at this, pointing to the chair once again. He couldn't seem to see why his father couldn't see the other blonde boy sitting in the chair, legs swinging and hair falling in his face.

"Mattie? He's my bestest friend, Daddy!"

"Bestest friend, hm? Where does Mattie live, then?"

"In the spare room. He says it used to be his room, before it got all changed around. He's sitting at the table now, see?"

And so Arthur did turn to look, turning the tap off as he did so, at the circular kitchen table that took the part of the kitchen, if only to at least humour his son.

And he really wasn't surprised when he saw nobody at the table, even if Alfred's eyes locked onto thin air. Arthur was logical after all, and wouldn't be surprised if this was the start to something many young children had- imaginary friends.

* * *

Alright so, I found that copy and pasting to update works better then just uploading the document! Plus, it doesn't mess with my spacing.

Anyways, this is all based off an idea a friend of mine and I had late one night, and I sort of stared writing on it. Not too sure how many chapters this will have, but I do have it planned out, although not at all written yet, which is a bad habit. Updates will in no way be regular, simply because my writing motivation is as moody as a cat dunked in water.


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